


Always like This

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Grey Matter [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Slave, Ownership, wetwiring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lovely place you have." There was a faint lilt to it, and that was charming, as well. "I suppose I can become accustomed."</p><p>"I suppose you might, if you don't set it on fire," Bastian drawled, locking the door behind him. He could, no <i>would<i> run. "I read your dossier. I have a feeling they left out a few... hundred pages."</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Always like This

His life had been a series of ill timed and potentially psychotic choices. Everything had turned out all right, and that was what kept surprising him. His life was decent, he had a home, he had something of a career even if it made the MI6 cringe a bit, but when one had a reputation of _having_ a reputation there wasn't much one could do to soil it.

That was why Sebastian Moran had brought home an angry snapping criminal slave, rather than the mewling cunt he'd gone to the auctions to get. They hadn't even tried to make him sexy like some of the others, just paraded him out in his pants and made him turn around and gave the audience a good eyeful.

The leg irons had been a particularly delightful part of the evening, and Bastian didn't mind courting danger. Not even a little, and this was very likely one hell of a lot. James Moriarty was brilliant and mostly insane. The way they had talked about him had made sure that no one had the balls it took to bid against him when he had decided that was the one he wanted, that one right there, small and dark and smirking despite the fact that he was being sold as a wet-wired pleasure slave in order to punish him for his crimes.

"Lovely place you have." There was a faint lilt to it, and that was charming, as well. "I suppose I can become accustomed."

"I suppose you might, if you don't set it on fire," Bastian drawled, locking the door behind him. He could, no would run. "I read your dossier. I have a feeling they left out a few... hundred pages."

There was something infinitely pleasing about that curl of lip, the way that Moriarty stretched his neck slowly, the sound of the snap-pop loud. "Mmmm. Well, half of it, I expect they didn't understand. Not entirely."

"It's a case of not wanting to." He shrugged off his coat, threw it on the arm chair, reached to turn a light on under a fine antique lamp. The cleaning staff came in once a week, and he generally lived a tidy life. Except for bandages, but he could empty his own trash, and only broke the cheaper furniture when he was pissed. "You're very interesting, though. I followed you before they got a hold of you."

"How sweet. A fan." Sarcasm did sit entirely well on him. It made Bastian hard just to look at him and see the way he moved, the way he peered up through his lashes. "Well, I will sign something for you, if you like."

"Get on your knees." He was smiling as he circled back towards the man. "You can be as smart arsed as you want. You don't exist in the eyes of the government as anything but my fuck toy. They took your name from you. It's only happy coincidence that I even know it, that I work for people who wish they'd gotten you to strangle yourself in your jail cell rather than survive the wet wiring. Jim. Jimmy? James? Little cocksucking Jimmy from the Isles?"

It didn't even seem to faze him. He just looked at Bastian and licked his lips, and he would imagine that smile scared the living fuck out of just about everyone in the world. Bastian was made of stronger stuff than that, though, and so he waited patiently for a moment before reaching to unbuckle his belt. That earned him a quirk of one dark brow, but it also made him drop wordlessly to his knees.

Excellent.

"Do you have a preference in what I call you in public? Because I'm going to call you whatever I like at home. But I'll give you that much." Out of interest and not out of some misplaced sense of respect.

That lazy look still seemed to be infinitely more self-possessed than anyone would consider normal. "You can call me sir."

He tilted his head a little, interested in at least the size of the man's balls, because Christ, that was amazingly nervy. "Why do you think I'd call you sir?"

"Why wouldn't you?" That was interesting, the way that he seemed so sure of himself despite his position. It was... perhaps not charming, but certainly amusing. "It is, after all, what I prefer to be called."

"Little strange, given that I just bought you." He continued to unbuckle his belt, a slow motion. "Unbutton your shirt."

The fact that Jim did as requested, well. He wondered if that were part of the wet-wiring, too, but he seemed willing enough. It was interesting considering what Bastian knew of him, and then he licked his lips and looked up at Bastian with an expression so smug that he wanted to beat it out of him.

"Get the shirt off. Rip the sleeves if you have to, it's prison shit anyway." He wasn't going to unbuckle him yet. "You know who I am."

The arrogant tilt of his head was annoying in so many ways. "Yes. I know exactly who you are." It didn't seem to bother him, either, and he reached up, pulling at the shirt as ordered. It didn't seem to want to come loose but then he tugged just so and the seams split, ripped around him, and that was just what he had wanted to see.

"I think you could be useful to me." He tilted his head, easing the belt the rest of the way out of the buckles. "And I could be useful to you." In so many ways, and the way that Jim watched his hands, licked his lips, it made him wonder how much of it was just him being a slut and how much of it was the wiring.

"Do tell."

"You enjoy doing challenging things. I enjoy doing bad things for my government. I can find you a state sanctioned outlet, and continue doing bad things for good money." While fucking his doe-eyed brains out. He curled the belt slowly around his hand, noting the shift in breathing, the way James Moriarty was watching him, his lips parted, dick hard beneath the shitty pants he was wearing.

"That does sound... interesting."

"If I keep you wire-tapped and sedate in the house, I'll waste all of that lovely intellect. And it's less fun to fuck the shit out of someone if they're not smart enough to potentially make me regret it." He stepped in closer, shoved his free hand into the man's hair and tipped his head back.

Those lips parted, pretty and red already, and he wondered if someone else had used him beforehand. "Oh, I can make you regret ever being born, honey."

Sebastian kept his hand in the man's hair and crouched down, getting on a level with him, though even crouching he was a bit taller than the fellow. "Nah, I can do that myself on a good day. Is this the wetwiring, or is it all you?" He wanted to put his fingers in the man's mouth, run it along the line of his gums that would help him check, work out what had been there most recently.

He was watching Bastian so closely, his attention utterly riveted. It might have been disturbing to anyone else. "If you don't think that I can think my way around what they've done, then you have a very poor opinion of me."

"I'm just surprised you seem to want me to beat you with my belt. It's not anything I have a problem indulging myself in, I'd just rather not if it's not interesting. Fake isn't interesting." Interesting was that he seemed to like the idea of the buckle more than the leather. He stroked his fingers in Jim's hair, and curled them under his jaw. "Open."

Open, and he obeyed so fucking prettily. It made Bastian growl, and then that wet tongue lashed out, caught his thumb as he moved it closer to his mouth, and he sucked it in, warm and wet and easy right up until the moment he bit down on it. Not too hard -- the wiring prevented that -- but it was obvious that he had never been a tame sort of pet, nor would that change entirely.

"Good." His voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he pulled his thumb back only slowly, after running the pad against the top edge of Jim's teeth. "I might even un-shackle you."

Flash of something like a smile. "I assure you that I'm very good with my hands." Yes. Likely around his throat.

"Just because you're not lethal any more, doesn't mean you can't kill." Anyone with brains knew it, and Bastian had thoughts, spinning together, half forming. "Through people. It's what you always did, isn't it?" And against anyone else's better sense, he reached down to unlock the shackles.

God. He was completely, madly charismatic. It was obvious why people had done so very many spectacularly stupid things for him. "It's always so much more interesting to get someone to do something they say they would never. I've found that almost everyone will, no matter what they believe. Breaking them is... fun."

"There's nothing I'd say I'd never do." He kept his eyes on Jim's, and from unlocking the shackles at his hands it was an easy motion to cup his erection. "I'm going to have you right here on the floor."

"Then have me." Oh, yes, just like this and he was fucking hot, and perhaps, just perhaps, Bastian was in over his head. "Fuck me blind."

He squeezed Jim's dick hard through the sad fabric of his pants. "Pants off. Don't stand up." Because it was fun, watching him squirm, watching him try to obey despite the difficulties of it. He seemed to take it all in stride, but Bastian had a sneaking feeling that he was only biding his time.

Well. He would be able to handle it. That much was certain.

It was interesting to watch that calmness, that interest in his eyes, mingling with something else in the back. "Lovely. You're fucking gorgeous." Skinny, and fit and not fit at the same time, healthy looking. There was definitely ass to slap around.

"I'm sooo glad you think so." Sparking sarcasm, and yeah. Yeah, this was going to be good. "Anytime now."

He held the man's gaze, though, watching him. "I started out as a sniper. I can watch you all day long. Just remember that."

"Watch me." Flirty little shit. He was rubbing his hand over his own hip, down to caress over his dick. "Watch me, and all you'll ever see is exactly what you expect to see."

"I don't think you understand my expectations." He stayed crouching, but turning the man around, twisting him on his spot on the floor and pushing him down onto it was easy. Too easy, and it seemed clear that he was going along with it, particularly when those black as night eyes turned in his direction and he smiled.

The way he wriggled was invitation and smart-assery all at once. "Then explain them to me."

He flipped Jim over again, onto his back hard enough to jar him, leaning over him. "I don't want whatever this fucking game is. I know who you are, and what you can be, and I can help you get back to that."

Oh. That seemed to get his attention, because he tilted his head, eyes narrowing, observing Bastian quite seriously. "How interesting."

How interesting that he could be that calm when Sebastian was pinning him to the floor, naked and on his back. He was the embodiment of control, and he was wet-wired for fucking and bought. Sebastian swallowed, but didn't blink.

It was unsurprising when James Moriarty leaned up and caught his mouth, eyes still open and watching him for every single second, tongue a wet, teasing lap that went straight to his fucking cock.

He groaned, a noise that was more from his chest than his throat, somewhere in his ribs, and he tipped his head down, wanting more. "I'm not calling you sir in public."

Jesus. Another kiss that pretty much ate his brain. "That's all right. So long as we're clear on who's on top of things."

He wasn't a stupid man. He'd made it as far as he had by being politically savvy and sensing things quickly and moving, and fuck, yeah, he had the sense of that, of the gleam in the man's eyes, wetwired fuck toy or not. "I'm still going to pound you." But it was more of a promise than a threat as he slid his hands down, balanced carefully on his knees, and grabbed the man's hips.

"I've no objections to that." Clearly not, because he was rock hard and eyeing Bastian's erection with a lust that spoke intelligibly of desire and a lust that seemed to be both for what he was offering and for him physically.

He had to move his hands for a moment, fumbling a tube of lube out of his pocket because fuck, he'd been looking to buy a sex slave and he liked to be prepared. "Then I think this will work."

"Ohhhh." His dick was hard, leaking at the tip, an open invitation to touch and lick and suck. "I know that it will. Just a _feeling_." Yeah, and he was sprawling open his knees, looking up at Bastian with pouty lips and flirty glances, and fuck but he was going to enjoy this.

"Wetwiring didn't change a thing, did it?" He hazarded a guess at it, situating himself between Jim's sprawled legs, leaning down to kiss the man's stomach. Just a taste, just, well, fuck, it was probably going to be a lot more than a taste.

Laughter wasn't always a good thing in bed, but this seemed to be. "Not very much. They went about it all wrong, which I might have told them... if they had asked." He was squirming, shifting in open invitation. "Not enough to matter. I'm too smart for it. It's their own bad luck that they didn't realize it, and my good fortune they didn't hit anything vital."

They'd hit one or two things, he'd seen that, but that was... that was better, that made the spread legged reaction so much better as he placed a hand on the inside of Jim's leg to push his thigh down flat. His cock bobbed up harder, and Bastian leaned in to lick at the pre-cum. Real slutty was always so much better than faked, and the enthusiastic moaning, the way that Moriarty squirmed under him, was pure open invitation.

"Christ, won't you just fuck me?" There was no please to it, and it just barely skirted the edges of being a demand. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Or blow him. Or just about anything, Bastian reckoned, because he humped his way up towards Bastian's mouth when he got his lips on him proper.

After that, the noise sounded different, better, as he started to suck hard, slurping his way down slowly. He liked the noises, liked the look of the other man as blew him. He was flushed with it, writhing and panting, hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he made sounds. God, the sounds he made, moans and little whimpers, and this was going to be fucking addictive. Soft and breathy, and just faintly accented, sliding into his ears as he leaned his elbow on the man's thigh and fumbled with the lube cap.

It took a fair moment to get it open, and clearly he was going to learn to keep it more readily accessible. It didn't seem to matter, his fumbling, except when he was urged to go back to sucking, which made him want to laugh. Demanding git, honestly, and this was much more enjoyable than he had thought it might be, which was saying something.

He'd had pretty high expectations, but that was good, so good. He leaned down and licked Jim again, his hands slick when he pushed two fingers up along Jim's ass crack.

"In!" Needy little bugger, and Bastian couldn't help huffing out a laugh and holding him down with an elbow over his thigh. It earned him outraged noises, and he quite liked that. "Now!"

"I don't even get to open you up? Jesus, you don't feel like you were being passed around like a party favour while waiting to be sold..." Tight, and clenching purposefully around his fingers while he twisted and then finally considered moving.

Bright slash of a grin, all teeth and sharp mouth. "I like being opened up by cock."

His dick twitched, and he gave up on fingering that tight pert ass. He had his elbow off the man's thigh in no time, then, and moved up, lifting Jim's thighs. "We'll do it your way, then."

"Excellent." Clearly, because he was opening his knees wide around Bastian, letting him put them where he liked, hands reaching for him greedily, fingers grasping. "I like it my way."

"I can tell," he sighed, leaning into Jim closely, using his free hand to slide his dick up along Jim's asscrack. He held it, pushing the head in slowly, and then easing it back out, watching Jim's hole, and then his face as he teased him. It scrunched up, and then his mouth went slack for just a second before he caught his lower lip between his teeth, a moan stifled behind the motion. He was arching up for it, head dropping back and leaving the line of his throat open for Bastian's mouth.

He went for the line of his throat, leaning in at the same time he finally stopped playing with the edge of Jim's hole and thrust in hard enough that his balls smacked Jim's skin. The moan sliding out of Jim's throat felt good under his mouth, made it necessary for him to take a deep breath and think desperately about anything except the tight clasp of ass around his dick. "Fuck!" He gave Jim that much time before he withdrew and slammed back in, fingers of one hand squeezing Jim's ass, the other holding his knee as he bent into him.

"I'm going to fuck myself a place in you," he panted against that lovely neck, doing his damnedest to keep control of himself, keep himself from coming, and it was an effort, herculean, because Jim kept clenching around him and pushing, rocking, trying to get more of him in with every thrust. He could taste the salt of his skin, a stench of fear that was secondhand, probably from the other poor bastards they'd sold.

It was a little of a surprise when Moriarty laughed, but not when he moaned and pulled Bastian more tightly to him. "Do it. Do it, do it, fuck me until you're all I can feel, I dare you."

He had a reputation for being a rough lover, the kind who left bruises. That had lost him some lovers and gained him others, but usually never had them begging for more. Bastian dug his fingers in tighter, slamming in harder, and then he stopped, pulled out and twisted Jim around with rough hands because up on his knees was so much better for that even if he couldn't have that mouth. He didn't give Jim a chance to protest before he lined himself back up and shoved in hard, bracing fingers tight against Jim's hip.

The immediate rock back to meet him made him curse under his breath, and there was that laughter again, mostly panting, but just a little there and amused, and he didn't bother trying to keep it gentle or normal. Instead, he kept on and on and on, watched the motion of those slim shoulders as he tensed, hands shoved out to brace himself so that he could meet each motion, and fuck. Fuck, this was brilliant. This was worth every goddamned penny.

It was the best money he'd ever spent, and he'd spent a lot of money in his days.

"Fuck, Christ..." He wasn't, wasn't going to give the man a reach-around if it killed him not to come first. He'd come from Bastian's dick alone or Bastian's heart would give out, whichever happened before the other, and he didn't give a damn. Just kept fucking his way into him, and those were the most delicious sounds, dirty and dark and deep, and when Moriarty tried to reach for his own dick, Bastian reached out and snatched his hand. They fumbled for a moment, and then he managed to slam it down beside him, and it surprised him more than a little when Moriarty began to shake frantically beneath him, moaning, head ducking.

Good, good, that was what he wanted. He wanted him shaking, aching with it, he wanted the man's dick to drip, ooze onto the floor beneath him while Sebastian focused and had to let go of Jim's hip to squeeze the base of his own dick for a moment to keep himself held in check. "Your ass should come issued with, fuck, fuck, a cock ring..."

Amusement, yes, breathless and just a bit edged with something, something he couldn't place, and Bastian shoved his way inside again, again, again, and he could practically hear it when Moriarty spilled on the floor, the sound of him frantic and hot, the clutch of him so fucking good that Bastian thought it might kill him.

He gave another thrust into that tight clutch again, and managed to remain on his knees behind his new slave, panting and hunched over the other man's heaving back. "Oh, you're worth so much more than that price..."

God, fuck yes, and somehow he managed not to fall over entirely as he came, shuddering and hot and fucking needy in a way that was just amazing.

He held onto Jim, pleased, catching his breath, catching his sanity as well, perhaps. It wasn't to plan, to spec, but fuck, he could make it all work beautifully. Maybe not the way he'd expected or the way the people certainly watching him expected, but then, that was life. Things changed unexpectedly, and this, he could make this into something.

"I can hear you thinking." Sing-song voice. "Do let me bear that sort of heavy-lifting, won't you?"

Cheeky bugger.

"I think I'll manage in some areas," he drawled. And then took a moment to slap that gorgeous ass with his palm. There were obvious benefits to owning Jim, and that motion gained him a slow, sneaky smile over one shoulder.

He was going to enjoy this very much.


End file.
